The Ocean
by Phishouttawatta
Summary: A decade after the War of the Ring, Middle Earth is healing and calm. As the people of Middle Earth come together to celebrate, Legolas meets a force for peace from the most unlikely source. A story of healing, comfort and peace. LegolasxOC.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor do I know any songs written by Noah and the Whale. I do not profit from their use, which is purely for entertainment. Original characters and places are products of my imagination and I hold ownership over them :) ENJOY!**

Grey eyes took in the White City for the first time since their owner defended its walls and people with his life. Low lying clouds parted to reveal slivers of sunlight that caught on the magnificent walls and pinnacle of the citadel, causing them to gleam in pearly splendor. Legolas could not stop the smile that spread across his face as he sat astride Arod, reflecting on how quickly ten years had passed. Beside him, a rider atop a pony trotted to a stop alongside him, calling out in a gruff voice.

"Ah, at last! Come, elf, you cannot possibly tire as we are in sight of our destination. The King won't wait for us all day, you know." Legolas chose not to point out that it was _he_ who had needed to halt to wait for his friend of lower stature. The woodland elf allowed Gimli to go ahead a ways without him, only to hear him call back.

"I'm going to beat you there if you dawdle much longer!" The Prince used only the most polite, conscientious voice he could as he replied.

"Oh, but I am only giving you a fair head start," chuckling as his delicately pointed ears picked up the dwarf's indignant sputtering. Without anymore prodding, Legolas gently urged Arod into an easy pace as he thought of his another friend awaiting him, the Gondor's king, Aragorn.

They quickly drew close to the main gates, which were open, and as they approached, the companions could see by scanning the open plains that they were not the only guests arriving. Dotted across the landscape were a few wagons, a caravan, and groups and singular horses, all which bottled-necked into a line to enter the great city and transverse carefully up the levels of the city.

Aragorn, and his queen, had extended an invitation-deservedly so, how could one celebrate peace without those who fought the hardest for it-to a celebration in honor of ten years of peace. As Legolas and Gimli rode carefully up each subsequent level, it became clear to Legolas that the people of this Kingdom were really beginning to thrive in this time of peace. As he saw the rebuilding of livelihoods lost from great violence and suffering, Legolas was reminded of his own people, many of which had set sail to the Undying Lands, never to return. It was to his understanding that his father wished for him to remain in Mirkwood after this visit and lead those of their people who chose to remain, which he would do without hesitation. However, it was becoming clear to Legolas that while other races began to flourish in the time after the War of the Ring, the time of Elves in this Middle Earth was naught.

As they came upon the main courtyard in which stood the white tree, they were greeted with the site of scores of caravans, each from different regions of the Arda. The companions dismounted in front of the main doors, allowing an awaiting stable hand to lead their steeds away for water and feed. On his short walk into the great hall, Legolas picked up more dialects and ways of speech than he had ever heard and was in awe of the amount of people had gathered for the celebration. The hall was filled with innumerable people, and Legolas began to wonder what this visit held in store for them, and how a celebration which hadn't even begun could possibly hold even more people.

"How are we supposed to find him?" Gimli grouched from beside him as he rose onto the tips of his toes, unable to see anything through the sea of bodies. Thanks to his height, Legolas was able to scan over most of the crowd, looking for a familiar face. His eyes fell on a familiar figure addressing a group of-he guessed from their style of dress-servants. Legolas gestured to his companion, and they wove their way through people until they came upon Arwen, who had yet to notice them as she was still facing away. Legolas placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she spun, surprise and delight lighting her features as her eyes took in his face, as well as Gimli by his side.

Arwen immediately enveloped both on them in warm hugs, though light, and as she pulled away, Legolas quickly noticed the swell of her belly accompanied by two protective, loving hands coming to rest lightly upon it.

"It seems our Lord and Lady have been busy with more than just preparations for the celebration," Gimli joke with waggling bushy eyebrows, causing a startled laugh out the Prince and a blush from the Evenstar. Legolas gave his friend a small shove as the dwarf guffawed, giving Arwen an apologetic-if not amused-look.

"What I think our Lord Dwarf _means_ to say is that it seems congratulations are in order. Peace is not the only blessing that will bestowed upon you this year." Arwen beamed, positively glowing with happiness. This would be her and Aragorn's first child, and while the War of the Ring brought danger and challenges beyond compare, becoming a mother would be the greatest adventure and the sweetest journey she would ever take. Her mind now on her husband, she craned her pale neck.

"I could have sworn I just-ah! There he is, right where I left him." The two weary travelers, who were still too excited at the prospect of reuniting with their friend and ally to realize their own fatigue, eagerly followed the Queen, who's moss coloured gown flowed gracefully around her as she strode towards her husband. Legolas looked ahead, and saw a group of three people, speaking jovially, one of which was Aragorn, eyes bright and full of mirth, and two of which were in strange garments, very unlike any of which he had seen before. While he was just barely out of Aragorn's eye line, the other two strangers were slightly away from him, one more in front of the other so he could only glimpse part of each. The farthest from him was obscured so much, all he could really make out were two things: he was a man, and he possessed a shocking mess of hair, salt-and-peppery, sticking up in all directions. The other man was much easier glance over and assess, being finally in full view for Legolas' sharp eyes.

The man wore a black, long-sleeved tunic with intricate white patterning and gold trim that reached his knees. A vibrant red sash was tied around his waist, on the back of which was secured what looked to be a small dagger, the handle of which was golden and encrusted with one ruby jewel, the scabbard giving away the lethal curve of the blade. On the legs of this strange visitor were leggings that were golden in color and fitted close to the leg until they were interrupted mid-calf by black wrappings which gave way to flat-soled traveling boots of the same color. The figure's head was obscured from his view by a head covering, of which looked much more worn than any of the other clothing donned by the man, indigo in color, though the sun had bleached parts of it a much for reddened-violet.

As his eyes left the stranger and found Aragorn again, the King's eyes met his, and he realized they nearly reached the trio. Noticing the person whom they had been speaking to had turned his attention elsewhere, the two strangers turned to follow Aragorn's gaze. It was then that Legolas was startled almost to the point of freezing on the spot, for looking over one shoulder with a soul searing gaze from beneath the indigo head covering was a woman of Harad.

Her eyes, a bright, sea green with gold bursting from the void of her pupils, stood out sharply from her dark, bronzed skin. Unlike the concave bridges and upturned tips that were so common among the humans and elves he had seen, between her intense orbs was a straight bridge, across which were littered uneven, blotchy freckles. Her lips, as sun-kissed and browned as the rest of her face, parted as they came closer, ready to speak a greeting.

"Legolas! Gimli!" exclaimed Aragorn, face splitting into a smile and arms opened wide as he approached his friends, giving each in turn each a hearty handshake and bear hug. For his wife, he placed a tender kiss on her cheek, and she smiled softly.

"My friends, your journey went well I trust?" Aragorn inquired, taking Arwen's hand into the crook of his elbow. Legolas looked upon his friend, who's eyes glittered with excitement and who looked as if he hadn't changed one bit, save for the longer hair and fuller facial hair. Aragorn, though out of usual habit similar to that of Legolas, had his crown upon his brow this day, and probably would continue to keep it sitting atop his head throughout the festivities these next seven days and eight nights of celebration. It caught the light filtering through the windows and large door as he moved his head to look between Gimli and Legolas.

"Aye, that it did. We would have been here soon had the elf not dilly-dallied through the woods," Gimli said. Movement caught moved in the corner of Legolas' sight, and his eyes again met those of the Harad woman, who was pulling back her head covering to hang about her neck and over one shoulder. Her hair, a dark, sooty brown streaks of russet from years in the sun, fell down her back in a whip-like braid, the top disheveled from wind and travel. The sounds of his friends chuckling at Gimli's jest at his expense reached his ears, and he tore his eyes away from the woman to return Gimli's jest.

"May I relinquish my bow for my whole life if I lingered longer in Fangorn than you in the caverns of Helm's Deep." The company took a turn to chuckle at the dwarf while he turned flabbergasted eyes upon Legolas.

"But, Legolas, the beauty of that forest holds no comparison to the magnificence of those caves!"

"Is Gimli the son of Gloin considering those caverns more fair than the Lady of the Golden Wood?" Aragorn asked, remembering the words spoken by the dwarf upon their parting from Lorien.

"Never!" Declared Gimli, reaching to his breast where Galadriel's gift lay interlaced with crystal. Aragorn gained their attention once more.

"My friends, may I introduce you to the two leaders of one of the performing caravans: Baaüli," he gestured to the man with the wild hair, who's own indigo head covering hung loosely around his neck, and gesturing to the woman who's expression had softened with her smile, though the intensity of her gaze had Legolas almost missing her name as it was spoken. "Khaanenda."

"My friends from the desert, allow me to introduce Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of Greenwood," both humans smiled, while Gimli's eyes grew wide.

"I am sorry," Gimli began as he realized he was staring and close to slack jawed-though Legolas was not much better, "Never had I seen men from Harad while not in battle," Gimli gave as an explanation, stumbling slightly over words. A velvety voice wove its way into his elven ears, and Legolas realized the woman, Khannenda, was speaking, her words accompanied by the lightest of accents.

"Master Gimli, it is an honor. I haven't met a dwarf in quite sometime, though we used to have one in our company for about a year." She turned to Legolas, her vivid eyes met his, and somehow Legolas was finally able to find his tongue.

"Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo," he greeted, his grey eyes never leaving her green ones. A smile spread across her lips, revealing her white teeth, and the elven prince blinked in order to find his mental bearings once more, thankfully without noticeable pause. "You mentioned you had a company?" Khannenda's smile only widened as she nodded once, enthusiasm lighting her gaze.

"Their's will be one of the few performing this evening during the meal," Aragorn cut in. Legolas raised his brows, while Arwen addressed bronze-skinned woman.

"Singing this evening?" she asked, with laughter poorly veiled in her voice, as though she were making an immensely funny joke. Aragorn and Baaüli shared in the laughter, and Khannenda joined, chuckling softly.

"Not this night. While I hope you enjoy my work, we populate our company with those with much more appealing voices so that I might not have to." Legolas felt his curiosity getting the better of him.

"If not singing, perhaps you are dancing? Maybe playing an instrument in Baaüli's company?" Legolas questioned, though he felt his intended words escaping him, replaced with poorly constructed questions. Her gaze flickered to him again briefly, and he saw her and the rulers of Gondor share a private smile, as if they knew a joke that no one else did. Baauli broke whatever embarrassing silence threatened to engulf Legolas.

"I will go make sure the unloading of the instruments is through. Niece, I hope to see you shortly." Legolas realized that Baaüli's voice was very quiet and soft, which explained why he hadn't spoken much since the conversation began. Legolas assumed him to be the composer, as the few musical geniuses he had met had the tendency to be sensitive, quiet souls, who's true personalities rang out in during performances.

"I'll follow momentarily," Khannenda called after him as he had already begun walking away. "My friends, I must beg your leave. If I'm not mistaken, we only have a few hours until sunset, and there is much to be done. Legolas, Gimli, it was great meeting you. Hopefully you enjoy the show, and we can speak more after the dinner." Taking a step back from the group, she held her hand over her heart and bowed her head slightly before striding off with her braid swinging behind her.

Legolas released a breath he didn't know he was holding, and out of the corner of her eye, Arwen caught his gaze and sent him a knowing smile before excusing herself to get ready for the evening's celebrations. Aragorn cut into whatever thoughts Legolas was having by clapping him on the shoulder.

"Come, my friends. You must be tired and in need of a bath before the feast begins. We shall show you to your chambers and on the way you can tell me about what you have seen on your journey. What news have you for the forests?" Legolas's expression took a grim turn.

"The darkness that lurks in the forest has crept closer to the people's dwellings. We keep it within safe distance for those residing in the Kingdom, but with nearly half of our guards given leave to sail away, I find that those who remain may not have a choice in whether they stay for longer than the next few decades." Aragorn rubbed his chin in a thoughtful gesture as he slowed to a stop in the hallway of guest chambers they were passing through.

"Perhaps I may send small regiments to assist yours for a while. See if we can't get those spiders and demons driven out and back to the shadows they belong in. You fought hard for peace. It's time you be allowed to enjoy it with the rest of the world." It was the elf's turn to clap Aragorn on the shoulder, and a thankful smile spread itself over his features as he met Aragorn's eyes. Aragorn nodded, and glanced to Gimli, who stood with his hands resting on the top of his axe, sending a please look in the direction of the human.

"My friend, you would not believe how much a gracious offer such as that means to me, how much of a difference it would make for my people. Although it was we who were victorious in the war, I feel as though our way of life is slipping through our fingers." Aragorn leveled him with an understanding gaze.

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good notion." Motioning to behind the flaxen-haired elf, he pushed open a door that led to a chamber lit only with the sun of the early evening sunset. "This," he began, and opened another across from it, one that was on the interior wall of the castle, so as to not have a window, "and this will be your chambers for your stay here. I hope you find them comfortable." Legolas gravitated toward the room with the window, while Gimli all but pounced on the darker room, it having a bed much closer to the ground.

"Now, if you would excuse me, I have some last minute delegating to attend to," Aragorn joked, rubbing his hands together. Legolas and Gimli chuckled, and entered their respective rooms, realizing upon entry that their belongings, saddlebags, and weapons had already been placed inside. Legolas took a small amount of time exploring the space, seeing that it had an adjoining bathroom with a flexible, thick paper screen, behind which sat a tub that had already been filled with steaming water. Going over to his pack to find one of his changes of clothes to place in the bathroom, he passed closely by the window and could not help but take a look outside.

Though he was on the ground level of the entrance of the castle, he realized that the back side of it went below him, sloping to show stables and a large grazing pasture which had been taken over by visitors. From his window, he wondered if he would be able to glimpse the woman he had met earlier, perhaps see a glimpse of her indigo head covering.

Unfortunately, his keen eyes saw nothing after a brief scan below, and he assumed she was perhaps setting for the entertainment or even readying her person after traveling farther than he had.

OOOOOOO

The hour for dinner came sooner than anticipated, and the Prince of Mirkwood found himself running later than he would have liked, though just barely on schedule. Gimli had knocked on his wooden door with his cleaver of a fist ten minutes prior. Legolas had just been getting out of the tub, having lost himself in musings in the midst of washing. Now donning a silver tunic with light grey breeches, he was rushing through weaving his hair into braids of a warrior. Gimli, for the occassion, had put two braides into his beard and tucked it into his belt. Gimli looked over Legolas's shoulder into the mirror, pressing his palms down on his head, hoping to keep his unruly hair under control.

"Are you hoping to impress any lady dwarves this evening?" Legolas teased as he put a small bit of wax at the ends of his braids to seal them.

"Not as much as you're hoping to impress that desert woman. I hope you have actually have full sentences to speak to her in that brain of yours." Legolas turned, his grey eyes and face the very definition of stunned. Gimli, giving up on his hair, gave the elf a knowing look.

"Oh, don't give me that look, elf. I thought your kind was supposed to surpass mine in the art of words. Never before have I heard you sound so much like a cave troll." Legolas could not believe his ears, and, with his eyebrows were nearly at his hairline, he gawked at his friend.

OOOOOOOOO

The main hall had a grand feast lain out along three walls, two of which were full to bursting with guests from every corner of Arda passing plates along and across the tables, with elves and men outnumbering most. Banners showing house colors from around the world hung at the same level of those of the White City, showing unity and peace. Aragorn had been the driving force for peace not just in Gondor, but throughout Middle Earth as far as his reach could travel. He had encouraged many families, kingdoms, and peoples to relinquish any hard feelings and resentment in favor of peace, and even more impressive than that, was the overwhelming response. Even the leaders who were old and thought to be set in their ways had given up much of their old ways of thinking in order to unite their people with the rest of the world. Perhaps is was a longing that had been buried deep in their hearts, or perhaps it was exhaustion from so much loss and effort to rebuild. No matter the reason, it could only be a good thing now, and the evidence of success of this age was evident in the array of peoples gathered. Though he lived scores of mortal lifetimes and had transversed what he had once considered an impressive portion of Middle Earth, it was now clear to Legolas that their remained a vastness that was still unknown to him filled with beings which his imagination could not fathom.

The center table, which was offset to one side as to make room for the orchestra assembled, was reserved for the royal family and close friends. Legolas and Gimli wove their way through the crowd, deafening with talk and laughter, of people already merry with drink. Aragorn and Arwen had already taken their places at the center of the table. Two chairs were open on either side of the royal couple. Gimli chose the seat on the right of the Evenstar, while Legolas chose the one to the left of the King, where he had a better view of the array of instruments being warmed and tuned by their wielders.

Instruments were expensive and hard to come by. Mostly, such things were inherited as family heirlooms or through trade. To know there were so many in one place was incredible, and Legolas wondered at how many belonged to Bauuli and how long it had taken the man to acquire such rarities.

There were five musicians with rebecs, two readying them on their arms while the other three placed them beneath their chins. Legolas could smell the polish on the wood and rosin on the bows. Another stringed instrument, a longer and thinner version of the rebecs he had recognized, was the only instrument of it's kind. It looked very old, just as the musician who held it, who was sitting patiently waiting for the beginning of the number. Three transverse flutes also were beginning warm up scales near by, accompanied by two long pipe instruments which Legolas was unfamiliar with. He spotted a dulcimer, the lap on which it was sitting that of an older and plump woman, with cheery red cheeks. Two musicians with viols sat next to the woman with the dulcimer, with their instruments resting between their thighs, striking a conversation with another musician with a medium sized recorder.

To the immediate right of the orchestra had been placed a small rising of long, wooden platforms, just wide enough for a person to stand with comfort. Onto these were assembling lines of men and women, some holding small percussion instruments, causing a hush begin to roll through the crowd. Entering with the crowd was the craze-haired Baaüli, in a deep black tunic and matching breeches. White gloves adorned his hands and a white scarf hung loosely over his shoulders. With one outstretched hand meant to show, he lead Khaanenda who was enchanting in a gown reminiscent of the dunes of the desert, the color shifting as she moved as if she were part of the sands caught in the wind.

Arwen leaned forward to look at Legolas and Gimli.

"They are about to begin," she informed giddily, taking a sip of water from her goblet around her smile.

To think he had mistaken Khaaneda at first as a man! Upon reflection, Legolas felt it had been more than obvious, even without seeing her hair or face, that she was female. How had he missed how narrow her shoulders were compared to the hitch of her waist and flare of her hips, or the subtle way she carried herself, much more delicately than men. She gave a small curtsy to Baaüli as he released her hand and made her way over to what looked to be a harpsichord, though it was larger. Khaanenda gracefully placed her long curtain of hair, which was left unbound, behind her shoulder, and it felt down her back, thick and luxurious.

The instrument she was seated in front of was placed perpendicular to the royal table, so that they may see how she played, and Legolas, though wishing to receive a glance just so that he might gaze into her sea green eyes again, was glad that he could watch her play.

Baaüli stood with his back to his audience and produced a long, thin stick. He stepped onto a small platform as to be seen by all of his musicians that now gave them his full attention. He turned his salt and peppery head to his choir, who all had their hands folded in front of them and lungs full of air. Their voices rang out clear and strong.

_If you've got to run, run from hope_

_If you've got to run, run from hope_

_If you've got to run, run from hope_

_If you've got to run, run from hope_

As they sang notes scaling from the highest highs they finished their last words with to their lowest lows, the band struck up suddenly. The instrument that Khaanenda played immediately took the melody, it's full, rounded notes echoing off of the stone walls. Her dark fingers flew over the ivory keys, and she no longer sat, but stood, leaning into every note she played, her eyes bright as she mouthed the words of the chorus.

A soloist began to sing, his voice ringing through the crowded hall and the as the rest of the choir repeated the last half of their line.

_I know I'll never be lonely_

_I've got songs in my blood_

Khaanenda played the keys strongly as the next words were sung.

_I'm carrying all of the love of an orchestra_

_Give me the love of an orchestra_

Baaüli motioned to the rebecs, who played the melody that the harpsichord had owned, while the long pipe instruments played simple, yet quick scales up and then down again.

_So now in my deepest sorrow_

_There's no need for despair_

_I'm carrying all of the love of an orchestra_

_Give me the love of an orchestra_

_Give me the love of an orchestra_

_Give me the love of an orchestra_

The transverse flutes took the place where the rebecs had originally played the melody, the pipe instruments again playing the scales. At the conclusion of the scales, all instruments ceased saved for one small wooden, hand-held percussion instrument, which kept the beat as all musicians raised their voices to join the choir in the chorus. The words that rang with untold strength behind them.

_If you've got to run, run from hope_

_If you've got to run, run from hope_

_If you've got to run, run from hope_

The band joined together to play the melody to an immense crescendo, stopping suddenly so the music echoed through the hall and in the ears of their audience. No sooner had the company concluded did the crowd roar their approval, many standing-if not jumping-to their feet as they applauded. All of the company bowed, faces alight with the success of their performance.

Legolas was in awe. Never before had he heard a such performance, so simple, yet strong. As others sank back into their seats, Aragorn stayed standing, ready to address his guests. He swung his arm outward, palm towards the ceiling.

"Please, another round of applause for our lead conductor." Baaüli bowed deeply as a the audience clapped again. Arwen, standing beside her husband, also implored deserved recognition from her guests.

"Let us also celebrate the composer of the music and writer of the lyrics that touched us so," she smiled softly as she looked to the subject of her praise. Legolas followed her gaze to where the woman of Haradim was standing, a humble smile spreading across her lips and a soft blush dusting her cheeks. She bowed deeply as well, her hair swinging over her shoulder with her movement, and as the crowd rose to their feet, Khaanenda swung her gaze to the royal table, eyes on Arwen. Unable to play the demure maiden anymore, so immense was her happiness, that she threw her head back and laughed, eyes sparkling as she continued to share her joy with her elven friend.

And as her eyes flitted to Legolas, lingering, unmoving after many beats, the deafening roar of the crowd disappeared in his ears, and all he could see was her. Who was this woman in which so much creativity, so much life was capsulated until it was bursting at the seems, until she was forced to let it out and her passion touched the lives of others? As her smile softened, her ocean green eyes still gazing into his, Legolas became determined to know her.

Their eye contact broke and the roar in his ears returned-though Legolas noticed, embarrassingly, that his hands were still frozen in mid-air, and, worse-yet, Khannenda surely noticed-quieting as the rulers of Gondor made their way to the center of a circular spit of floor and began to dance as a small section of the band began to play. The choir vacated their stand and moved it against the wall, making more room for those who had finished with their meal to join the king and queen on the floor for dancing.

Bauuili again struck up the band, though they played much more danceable music, and Khannenda moved to her instrument to play again. Legolas was left standing dumbly at the head table, stuck deciding between sitting back down to watch her play or finding a new maiden to dance with so that he might appreciate her music to the fullest. His mind was soon made up for him as a golden-haired human woman pulled him from his meanderings. He recognized her instantly as Eowyn of Rohan.

"Does the Prince of Mirkwood have a dance to spare for a maiden of Rohan?" she asked with a smile.

"Perhaps not for a maiden of Rohan, but for the Lady of Emyn Arnen, I have countless," he replied, happy to see a familiar face among the sea of strangers. Taking her pale hand, he lead her to the dance floor as a new melody began and people began walking new partners to the center of the floor. Facing away from the band, Legolas's hand found Eowyn's shoulder blade and hand, while hers found a small groove at the end of the swell of his bicep, and all couples began a sweep of the dance floor.

"Not that I would dare complain of your company, but I am curious to know where your Lord is," Legolas enquired before leading his partner under his arm for a turn. As she turned back, she addressed his question.

"Faramir is not far. I do believe he is speaking with Aragorn and Arwen," she said, leaving formalities behind as had been requested many times requested of her. Stealing a glance over her head, he observed Faramir leading the evenstar, dressed in a midnight blue gown that seemed to make her look near ethereal, to where the rest of the couples were dancing. The joined the few couples for a last circle around the floor until the music faded away. The next dance that began to play was slower than the last, holding a much more romantic edge to it, and seeing the tender eyes of Eowyn towards her husband, Legolas skillfully twirled her out at the same time as Faramir twirled Arwen. Placing Eowyn's hand in Faramir's as he took Arwens free hand. When the pairs parted after switching, polite applause sounded from a group of onlookers.

Arwen beamed up at him, clearly enjoying his smooth movement. Legolas returned her smile, but let his eyes stray ever so briefly to the woman of the desert, something which did not escape Arwen's notice. A sweet smile streched her lips.

"Ask her for a dance," she suggested quietly so no other ears could hear.

"You say that as if it were the simplest thing in the world," he all but groaned. And, normally, it would be, but for some reason his voice and tongue did not obey him when at the mere thought of speaking to her. All of his charm and politeness, all of the years of his studying which he devoted to words, gone, at the thought of being the center of her attention.

"It may not be if you let her attention be won by others," she admonished. The thought struck Legolas hard, as if he didn't assume that others would surely be vying for her attentions as much as he would. However, a quick shift in positioning put Khannenda in his gaze once more.

"Am I correct in assuming that she will be playing for the remainder of the evening?" Arwen grinned.

"Yes, and she probably won't cease unless a handsome prince sweeps her off her feet." Legolas scoffed loudly, which sounded close to a derisive snort.

"I feel so foolish for my assumptions I made," he admitted, obviously berating himself. "I cannot believe I said such things to her." Arwen clicked her tongue in what was meant to be a comforting sound, followed by a soft coo.

"Aw, my friend, I am sure your questions were not met will ill feelings. If anything she is used to it. Her way of life, her culture, is so very different from ours and so little is known, all she ever is met with are assumptions. However, not all are as well-meant and positive as yours. If anything, I'm sure she would not renounce you for a such a small error." The edges of Legolas's lips quirked upwards at his friend's encouraging words.

"I _do_ remember her saying that we could speak at the end of the evening," Legolas recounted after sending Arwen out into a gentle spin. Arwen could hear the hope tinting his voice as another song ended. As he escorted her back to the main table as the serving staff began to bring dessert out from the kitchens, along with fresh pitchers of wine. Arwen found her seat, happy to take a small rest, and Legolas found his own beside her. Aragorn, having broken free of mingling for brief reprieve with his wife and elven-friend, soon joined them, while a voice that sounded suspiciously like Gimli's could be heard speaking the dialect of the dwarves not far from where the trio sat.

Reading the look on Legolas's face, Aragorn gave him a pitying look. "Oh, please, my friend! Don't tell me you still haven't spoken a word to her?" At this Legolas lifted his eyes heavenward with a look of exasperation.

"By the Valar, does _every_ being in this castle have knowledge of the feelings I hold for that woman, fresh as they still are for myself?" Aragorn chuckled at the elf's uncharacteristic poor attitude, though how could he blame a man for feeling so sour after an entire evening of torture?

"Legolas," he said, laughter still coloring his voice, "you are transparent!" At the look of horror that crossed his fellow warrior's face, Aragorn quickly added, "Let that not be considered to be such an undesired thing. What have you for concealed emotions and games?"

"Indeed, you're right," Legolas conceded with a smile, rising from his hole of self berating, where he in the last few hours had drank a healthy amount of wine. "Such things are for children, who's desires are not yet known or who's fears keep them from such. I am not afraid." He was terrified.

Reaching for a goblet of freshly poured wine, he took a sip, his thoughts on the woman who he was still unsure how to approach-especially considering his embarrassment of a conversation earlier.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Hello All! Firstly, thank you for the read! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you will continue to do so as the story unfolds.**

**Okay, so a few things, not really in order of importance:**

**1)Bits and pieces of this story have been wracking around in my brain for the better part of a year now, and I began writing this chapter in the summer. I wanted it to be so successful that I held off for an immensely long time, but no longer! I must post! And should I be starting another story with so many others in the works? Probably not, but I have the ending for this one already all pretty in my head, so it's just putting it all together (easier said than done). Plus my imagination kept poking me...**

**2) This will have a song or two in it. I was inspired to write this whole fan fiction by a single song, and then a few others I heard I felt could be incorporated, so they may very well be. I'm certainly no musician, nor singer (i have been known to dance a lot) but I feel like there is no denying the healing power of music, nor the fact that it brings people together. So, if any description of the music playing seems lacking, that's why. As for the instruments, I tried to keep it along the lines of medieval instruments, the ones that had remained unnamed in the chapter are listed below.**

**3) It doesn't seem like a lot is written on the Haradhim, so I have hunted and gathered bits and pieces from a few existing desert peoples to make what I feel like those of Harad and far Harad would be like. The main people I have used are the Tuareg people of Africa for most of the culture and Afghan language (mostly because Tuareg language is not the easiest to track down). Why Haradhim? Keep reading to find out :)**

**4)Speaking of language, a guide to the pronunciation of the names Khannenda (KAH-nen-DAH) and Baaüli (bah-OO-lee) (this means supporter). I am really not anywhere near an expert on Dari, so if anyone really knows the real inflections, I will make note :)**

**5) As I began to write a description and first encounter of Khaanenda, I realized in my minds eye she was similar to the Afghan girl, made famous by Nat Geo. If you want, go and take a look. I picture her with a more slender face and pointier chin, but everything else is basically spot on. If not, just let your imagination run wild :) Also, as I began writing Bauuli, I began to realize he looks a bit like Jeong Jeong from Avatar. Not meaning to spoil your imagination and mind's eye, but that's what I'm picturing. I may get around to a sketch of the two of them, but baby steps.**

**6) The name of the song performed is "Love of an Orchestra" by Noah and the Whale (do not own). I would give it a listen, it's simple but awesome :) There will be further elaboration on the meaning of it all eventually.**

**This will be a story of healing, very comforty and, as you might have noticed, totally fluffy and romantic. While I do not plan many, there may be scenes of gore and perhaps sexuality. If need be, I will give necessary warning preceding these. I'm not the biggest expert on LOTR (though I am an avid fan! loveloveloveit), so I am trying to keep the timeline and the characters accurate. I haven't written LOTR before, so my characterization may be off, but I will try my hardest :D **

**The long tube instruments are bladder pipes.**

**The longer version of the rebec is called a rebab.**

**Phew, okay I'm done :D Peace out, girl scout! -Phish**


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